


Eye of the Beholder

by Czaritsa (RomaStache)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Crosscultural Miscommunication and Confusion, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Minor Injuries, Public Display of Affection, Reluctant Narrator, SpicyBBQ - Freeform, SpicyMaple - Freeform, Stretch gets roasted by the other Papyri, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), That are curable and cured! No worries!, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2020-10-24 23:10:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomaStache/pseuds/Czaritsa
Summary: Love is in the eye of the beholder- even if he really, really wishes it wasn’t.Seriously, how the hell did Stretch end up being the third wheel for this Fellverse couple? He doesn’t even really know Slim! And he literallyjustmet Edge!One things for sure, though: if he keeps getting dragged into a front show seat to this blossoming romance, he’s going to start charging them a chaperone fee.





	1. PDA (Please Don't ACT like that...)

**Author's Note:**

> Playing with characterization, headcanons, and a reluctant narrator with one of my favorite ships! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since I watched the Musical "Evita," I loved the concept of a reluctant narrator and have been dying to play with it! This weird little, uh, story seemed like the perfect candidate! Also wanted to explore some other headcanons that are contradictory/don't fit in my other UT AU project!
> 
> For those of y'all following the RVR: Thanks so much for your continued support and patience! Rest assured, I'll be continuing and finishing that Spicyhoney skelepreg series! I'm just kind of stuck on the sequence of events and trying to trim the fluff, which is so haaaard. ;A;
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one! <3

“Lunch will be ready very soon! Please just make yourself comfortable on the couch! Feel free to turn on the tv, if you’d like!”  
  
  
When Papyrus told him that, Stretch kind of assumed that meant he’d be alone on the couch. So he’s very surprised to find it occupied by another skeleton. One he’s pretty sure he doesn’t know.   
  
  
“Like what you see?”   
  
  
The other skeleton’s voice startles him out of his puzzled staring, and Stretch feels his face heat up as they roll their shoulder back, making their crop top rise up higher. The other hand is almost coyly pressed against his chest, but he averts his gaze quickly.  
  
  
“Um.” Stretch isn’t used to being at a loss for words, but it’s kind of hard to concentrate with so much bone on display. Seriously, what was the point of even having a shirt if it was all shredded up like that?  
  
  
“So, uh, hi,” Stretch starts slowly, slipping his hands in his hoodie pocket. He tries to focus on the mystery skeleton’s face, but wants to avoid staring at that crack in their eye, too. This is way too complicated, “No offense or anything, but are you supposed to be here? Does Papyrus even _know_ you? ”  
  
  
“**_You_** don’t know me,” They answer unhelpfully, crossing their legs daintily. Sitting on the sofa’s arm like that, their feet don’t touch the ground, even with those high heels. They curl their free hand under their chin with a small smile, “Who are **_you?_** Are **_you_** supposed to be **_here?_**”  
  
  
Stretch blinks, not expecting to have the questions flipped onto him. Actually, maybe that was kind of a rude way to start off. If he knows Paps, then maybe he’s not as much of a stranger as he originally thought?  
  
  
“Uh, yeah,” he answers with a sigh, scratching at his cheek absently, “Paps invited me over for lunch with him and Slim. He didn’t mention anybody else, though, so I guess you just caught me by surprise. Sorry. I’m the Papyrus from Underswap, but you can call me Stretch. Easier if we just have one Pap, right?”  
  
  
“Stretch,” They parrot back, nodding to themself, “Papyrus’ friend from Underswap.”  
  
  
“Yup. That’s me.”  
  
  
The other monster starts eyeing his clothes instead, looking at his hoodie pocket curiously as they remain seated. And quiet.  
  
  
“...So who are you?” Stretch asks again, when it’s clear this monster isn’t going to say anything else. Where are Papyrus and Blue when you need them? They would get Chatty Cathy here singing karaoke and spilling their guts over popcorn and movies in an hour.  
  
  
“I’m a skeleton monster,” They inform him pleasantly, obviously enjoying being very annoying, “He/him pronouns. And I’m waiting.”  
  
  
Well, he tried. If Papyrus was happy having a weird, nameless skeleton sitting on his sofa arm, fine by him. This wasn’t Stretch’s house or his problem.  
  
  
“Okay, cool,” He puts his hands up, walking back towards the kitchen with a sigh, “Have fun waiting, whoever you are-“  
  
  
“S’Edge.”  
  
  
Startled, Stretch whips his head to the right to find Slim emerging from the kitchen with an ice pack. Huh? When did he get here?? The taller skeleton claps him on the back in greeting, hard enough Stretch can feel something rattle in his chest, before going to sit on the couch. Right next to ‘Edge,’ close enough their legs are touching.  
  
  
“So he’s _your_ friend, Slim?” Yeah, Stretch had him pegged as Fellverse the minute he saw all that black leather. (And the huge, gouging scar on his face that looked like claw marks.) “He from your universe, too?”  
  
  
“Nah.”  
  
  
_Ugh_. Good to know _all_ fellverse monsters like being unhelpfully cryptic. Time to scratch that particular travel destination off the bucket list.  
  
  
“But, yeah,” Slim looks vaguely amused, reaching up to put his arm around Edge’s shoulder. He tugs the other skeleton into his lap, moving the shirt (if you could still call it that) aside to press the ice pack against his friend’s ribs, “My **_boy_**friend.”  
  
  
Before Stretch can so much we raise a browbone, suddenly understanding their behavior a lot better, Edge is twisting around to lean on Slim’s chest.  
  
  
“Your **_boyfriend?!”_** He asks back incredulously, trying to fight back a smile as he pushes down a little harder. Slim lets out a slightly more labored breath, but levels him with a cool stare and serene nod. Edge clicks his tongue dismissively, letting up but giving the other skeleton his back. Still stayed put in his lap, though, “I never said yes.”  
  
  
“Never said no neither,” Slim counters smugly, gently trailing his free hand down his “boyfriend’s” (seriously, what are they?) back and letting his fingers catch in the spaces between ribs. Edge makes a vaguely interested sound, leaning into the touch with an amused huff.  
  
  
Ok, that’s more than enough of whatever weird, unintentional third-wheeling this is.   
  
  
“Oh, Papyrus!” Stretch calls into the kitchen pleasantly, glancing at the clock above the door, “Paging Dr. Papyrus! Your 1 o’clock is here! Please make your way to the front lobby!”  
  
  
He thinks he hears Slim whisper to Edge something along the lines of, “He’s a Doctor?” but then Papyrus is at the doorway.  
  
  
“Sorry to keep you waiting!” Papyrus bustles in with a tray in his hands, the single glass on top wobbling precariously as he begins talking animatedly, “That confounded canine managed to get into my drink cabinet, and he drank almost **_all_** the apple juice! Can you believe his terrible manners?! Who leaves only a _little_ bit of juice at the bottom?! It’s not enough for even a third of the cup, but throwing it out would be wasteful! But, of course, I made do with some cranberry-apple juice, so it’s-“  
  
  
He pauses mid-story as he catches sight of the couple on the couch, watching him with amused smiles.  
  
  
“Oh, Edge!” Papyrus sounds so happy, absently giving Stretch the tray to run over and hug the fell monster. Stretch is a little surprised, since these Fellverse types never struck him as particularly into physical contact, but hey, he makes a lot of exceptions for Papyrus too. And given what he saw of Slim and Edge’s relationship so far, that hypothesis is _definitely_ disproved, “I’m so happy to see you! How are you?”  
  
  
“Pappy!” Edge returns the greeting warmly, hugging the other skeleton just as tightly, “Me too! How are _**you?”**_  
  
  
If Papyrus notices that Edge didn’t answer his question, he doesn’t comment on it, “I’m GREAT! As always!”  
  
  
He bounces over to where Stretch is standing with a big grin, grabbing onto his forearm and hauling him closer to the Fell monsters, “I’m very happy because my good friends, Stretch and Slim, are here for lunch! Have you met them? Stretch is the Papyrus from Underswap, and Slim is the Papyrus from Swapfell, and guys, Edge is the Papyrus from Underfell-“  
  
  
“I’ve met them,” Edge’s voice is faintly amused, leaning back against Slim’s chest with a soft breath that could be a laugh or a sigh, “Or rather, they met __**me.”**  
  
  
“Like three minutes ago,” Stretch feels the need to clarify, not sure why Edge insists on being so vague, “One minute it’s just me, the next he’s just there, chilling on your couch like he owns the place. Pretty sure he came here with Slim.”  
  
  
“Oh? That’s nice!” Papyrus keeps their arms looped together, glancing at the hand Slim still has pressed against Edge’s rib cage, “I didn’t know you and Slim knew each other! How did you two meet?”  
  
  
“This **_tourist,”_** Edge manages to say the word with both scorn and affection, looping his arms around his boyfriend’s neck in what could be either a chokehold or a hug, “Wandered into a turf war between us and the Ruins monsters.”  
  
  
Slim shrugs carelessly, “Got lazy. Got lost,” He moves his free hand onto Edge’s hip, gently tracing along the bone as he murmurs, “Got lucky.”  
  
  
“Luck didn’t keep your head from being torn off,” Edge shakes his head dismissively, but he doesn’t move Slim’s hand away, huffing softly, “**I** did.”  
  
  
Was that supposed to be a laugh? It sounded more like pain than amusement... Actually, looking a little bit closer, Edge doesn’t look too hot. He seems a little tired, and he hasn’t stood up or really moved this entire time. There’s what looks like bags under his eyes, and a thin sheen of sweat on his skull.   
  
  
It clicks immediately, and Stretch finally understands what’s been going on, “You’re **_hurt?_** You’ve been hurt this entire time?”  
  
  
He’s never quite understood Slim, but if this is typical Fellverse behavior, he understands even _less_ now.  
  
  
“Why wouldn’t you say anything until _now?”_ Stretch asks, confused and apprehensive, “You **know** ice is only going to numb the area, right? It’ll keep it from dusting any more than it already has, but it’s not going to _**heal**_ it. You need a healer, a snack, and a nap. In that order.”  
  
  
“Perceptive,” Edge mutters, sounding vaguely annoyed and impressed, before Papyrus is in his face.   
  
  
“Oh! Oh no!” Papyrus pushes Edge onto his back as he pulls up his shirt, fretting around Slim’s hand. Edge is obviously used to this hands-on approach because he doesn’t so much as blink, lying back on his boyfriend’s lap... well, not quite placidly, more like resignedly, “Edge! This was a _karma_-based attack! It’s already worn down a third of your HP! Even if you have a lot of HP, this must be very, very uncomfortable!”  
  
  
He moves Slim’s hand off to the side, shifting the angle of the ice pack as he peeks underneath it, “Oh good! The injury itself isn’t too bad! I can heal it! Next time, you tell me _immediately_, okay? No Tough Guys here, only Trusting Guys Who Count On Their Friends For Help! Okay?”  
  
  
Stretch tries not to react when Papyrus finally removes the ice packet, but he can’t help gagging at the feel of dust. It’s not **_that_** much, certainly not enough to be too worrisome, but he’s always been pretty squeamish. It’s just _super_ uncomfortable to feel dying magic that way, like it’s about to spread to his magic, too!  
  
  
“...Okay,” Edge agrees sullenly, accepting the scolding with tired indifference. He can feel the Fell monster’s eyes on his back, though, and he can’t begin to decipher what emotion is being projected at him.  
  
  
“Stretch? Will you do me a favor?” Stretch feels his magic recoil at the question, making his bones heavy and cold, but he forces himself to nod. He glances over his shoulder long enough to see that Papyrus managed to take off his glove, and has a green bone sitting in the palm of his hand. Papyrus’ voice is soothing and calm, “Could you please go and find the medical kit upstairs? And grab the green-magic ribbon and the light blue ointment? And cut the green magic ribbon into a strip of, oh, 8 inches? There’s a ruler in my room, if you need one!”  
  
  
“Ok!” This is a favor Stretch can happily and easily do! He wanted to remain nearby to help, if necessary, but this seems a lot more helpful and a lot less painful. He doesn’t quite run to the stairs, but he moves a lot more quickly than he would normally, eager to get away from the unsettling feeling of dust.  
  
  
“Thank you!” Papyrus calls out cheerfully, and Stretch only glances down at them when he’s halfway up the stairs and the couch obstructs his view.   
  
  
He sees Slim is looking down with a strange, tender expression, lifting Edge’s hand to his mouth. He can barely hear them from here, Slim’s naturally soft voice even fainter at this distance.  
  
“Sorry,” Slim kisses the back of Edge’s glove, murmuring against the leather, “Ain’t mean to hurtcha.”  
  
  
Edge is a lot louder, and Stretch can hear him clearly from the top of the stairs, “...Not good enough! I’m going to need a _**lot**_ more than that!” Theres a slightly strangled quality to his voice, like he’s flustered at that soft gesture. Weird that a little hand kiss is somehow more intimate than, say, having your head in someone’s lap or having someone literally working on your rib cage, but whatever.   
  
  
__**Whatever.**  
  
  
The sooner Stretch gets the tape and ointment, the sooner he can hand them off to Papyrus. And then he can wash his hands of this whole affair!


	2. No Good Deed Goes Unpunished...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stretch just can't get a break. If it isn't those two fellverse guys, then its Papyrus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still at it with this weird pet project lol :'D

The worst part of a karma-based magic attack is that it can linger for a long time.   
  
  
Although usually not for  _ over an  _ ** _hour_ ** . Either Edge tangled with a group of purple magic using monsters, or activated some sort of karma trap meant for a boss monster, or something  ** _super weird and extreme_ ** because this wasn’t normal! Even if the guy had an LV of 7, the karma effect shouldn’t have remained active for  _ that  _ long.  
  
  
Papyrus had to tap out after the first 15 minutes, too drained from healing the main wound and reconsolidating the dusted area to do anything else. Apparently not too tired to go prepare some ‘nourishing healing food’ in the kitchen, though.   
  
  
So that leaves Stretch here, one hand resting on the bandages around Edge’s rib cage to give him a 1-hp pulse of magic every time that lingering karma rears its ugly, little head. Stuck right next to the super handsy lovebirds who don’t seem to understand the concept of  ** _personal space.  
  
  
_ ** “ **Stop** it!” He hisses, using his free hand to grab Slim’s wrist. He gives it a warning shake before firmly depositing it back in its owner’s lap, “Control yourselves! My hand is  _ literally  _ between you two! It won’t kill you to sit still and  _ stop touching each other _ for  **five minutes!”  
  
  
** “ _ Yer _ touchin’  ** _my _ ** boyfriend,” Slim counters mournfully, arm twitching in Stretch’s grasp, “I want in, too.”  
  
  
“I’m not-!” Stretch starts to interject, outraged, gesturing to Edge’s chest angrily, “This is fucking  _ charity _ , dude! Believe me, if I hadn’t been  _ asked  _ to do this, I would be keeping my hands to  _ myself _ !” And he’d enjoy not having his hand soclosetoaninjuryewewwwwewwscharitysucked!!! Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it! ** _ “Like you should be doing!”  
  
  
_ ** Honestly! Stretch has never considered himself particularly prudish, but there are some things you just don’t  _ do  _ in front of polite company!  ** _Especially _ ** not strangers you only just met and acquaintances you didn’t know super well! Even if,  _ technically _ , all of their touching had been PG-13, it was  ** _still _ ** weird as hell to be touching each other’s scars like that in public!  
  
  
Not that they seem to care about monster decency or any of that!   
  
  
“This one?” Slim asks, completely oblivious to the venomous glare directed at him as he cups Edge’s cheekbone. His thumb brushes against the bone almost reverently, gently tracing along a small scar.  
  
  
“Mmm,” Edge makes a contemplative sound, closing his eyes as he leans into Slim’s touch. He’s quiet for a moment (thankfully!!) before shrugging, “I was trying to teach my friend Undyne how to cook. I told her we needed to check to see if the meat was done cooking on the inside, and she stabbed it with a spear.”  
  
  
He moves Slim’s hand down to his chest, carefully avoiding Stretch’s fingers, but still close enough to be weird. He curls his boyfriend’s fingers against a rib, sighing softly, “Next time, she was faster.”  
  
  
“Hmm,” Slim rubs at the area gently, obviously feeling the length of scar and bumping straight into Stretch’s hand. _ Again.  
  
  
_ ** _“Oh my god!”_ ** Stretch flicks at Slim’s forearm irritably, pulling his own fingers as closely together as possible without moving his hand away from the wound.  
  
  
“I  **just ** told you to cool it, Romeo! Do you  ** _want _ ** your Juliet to start losing HP again?” He demands angrily, reaching out with his free hand to poke at Slim’s chest, “No? Then let me work, and I  _ promise  _ you can run off together far, far away from Verona!  ** _As soon as I’m done!”  
  
  
_ ** “S’tragedy,” Slim points out quietly, sounding a little forlorn, “Ain’t they die? Why’d ya say-?”  
  
  
“Yes! Yes, they  **die** ! And do you know  ** _why _ ** they die?” Stretch barely resists the urge to shake Edge, bouncing his leg in growing agitation instead, “Because they were  **impatient ** and  **reckless ** and didn’t  _ listen  _ to  _ Friar Lawrence!”   
  
  
_ He thumps his chest with his free hand for extra emphasis, “That’s  _ me _ !  ** _I _ ** am Friar Lawrence!”  
  
  
Slim sighs like a petulant child, a crease between his brow bones as he mutters, eyes downcast, “Ya sound like  _ m’bro _ ...”  
  
  
“What?!  _ What?!?!?!” _ That hits him like a freight train to the gut, and Stretch looks up with stricken dismay, “How could you  ** _say _ ** something like that?! That’s the  _ meanest  _ thing anyone has  _ ever  _ said to me!”  
  
  
He shakes his head emphatically, talking mostly to himself at this point, “I’m  _ nothing  _ like Razz! I am  ** _not _ ** a strict, uncool  _ killjoy _ ! I’m an unstrict, cool  _ fungrower _ ! A real  **fungi!”  
  
  
** Edge laughs so softly, Stretch doesn’t hear it so much as feels the soft shake of his ribcage. He’s not sure if Edge is laughing at his pun or his outrage, but it still kinda stings. His pride is wounded, he’s still super resentful that they forced him into this weird responsible-authority role, and then they had the  _ gall  _ to  _ mock  _ him for keeping their sorry asses from dusting!   
  
  
That was gratitude for you.   
  
  
“Okay, fine,  _ whatever- _ “ Stretch grumbles sulkily, taking his hand back. It’s petty as hell and not a nice thing to do, but  ** _whatever_ ** . If they have that many scars already, what’s another one? As long as Edge eats like a handful of chisps every time the lingering karma starts acting up again, he’ll be fine. It’ll scar, but  _ whatever _ ! Or! Even better, maybe his  _ boyfriend  _ could actually  _ do  _ something about it instead of just-  
  
  
“Are you angry?” Edge asks him cautiously, eyelights watching his every move carefully. He reaches out slowly to take Stretch’s hand in his, twining their fingers together.  
  
  
This weirdly intimate gesture knocks Stretch off balance, and his brain short circuits. He watches dumbly as Edge brings the hand to his own face, worried for an absurd moment that he’s going to kiss it.  
  
  
“You don’t  _ need  _ to be angry. I want to know about you, too,” Edge pushes the back of his hand against the scar over his eye, and even though it’s not actively dusting, it still feels grainier than the smooth bone around it. Stretch couldn’t keep himself from shuddering even if he wanted to.  
  
  
If Edge notices, he doesn’t comment on it, just explains nonchalantly like this is the most common thing in the world, “I got this scar from my neighbor when we were children. We had been fighting over who’s turn it was to be the human that time, and he hit me in the eye with his knife.”  
  
  
Then Edge  _ smiles  _ like that’s just a little rough housing between kids and not a horribly alarming, horrifying story, “But I got him back for that.”  
  
  
Stretch doesn’t want to know anymore, oh no, this is so much deeper than he ever wanted to go down this rabbit hole. He just nods quickly, taking his hand back and desperately wondering how to excuse himself without sounding rude. He can feel Slim’s eyes on him, assessing his actions and reactions, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to  _ do _ .  
  
  
“And you?” Edge’s hand brushes against his cheek, thumb trailing along the very slight scar he has on his nasal aperture. It tickles uncomfortably.  
  
  
It’s a dumb story, it’s such a stupid thing that happened because he’s clumsy and distracted- but the memory of that embarrassment with their overwhelming touching and watching is suddenly  _ too much _ .  
  
  
“Papyrus!” Stretch calls out frantically as he scrambles to the end of the couch. He doesn’t stop until he falls off, running into the kitchen as quickly as he can, “Papyrus! Can’t do this anymore, man, tag me out! ** _ Tag me out!”  
  
  
_ ** He doesn’t stop until he bodily crashes into Papyrus, clinging to the other skeleton like a lifeline, “ **Dude** ! These guys are super  _ weird _ ! You can’t leave me alone with them!”  
  
  
He gives his friend’s arms a desperate shake, “They know each other all of 2 hours and they’re already  _ inappropriately  _ intimate, fondling each other’s bones and shit! And then Edge touched my hand!”  
  
  
He sinks to the floor, leaning against Papyrus’ leg as his friend continues scooping noodles out of the pot and into the strainer. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to take that. Like, I’m flattered and all, but I  _ just  _ met these guys! They look like Batman villains, and I’m not talking henchmen level! I’m not going to hop into a poly relationship just like that, but I also don’t want to be like, eaten by a shark with a laser beam on its head for saying no, either!”  
  
  
“I don’t think you need to worry about that!” Papyrus laughs lightly, patting him on the head like he would a dog, “Laserbeam sharks would never survive in Snowdin! Besides, he wasn’t flirting- that’s just how Fellverse make friends! I think!”   
  
  
“Uhhh,” Stretch leans back against the counter so he can look at Papyrus dubiously, loosely hugging his knees, “I think I know the difference between a ‘you’re hired!’ handshake and an ‘enchante gorgeous’ one. I’m super dense, dude, but even  _ I _ could tell that was flirting.”  
  
  
“Fell universes are very different from ours, so they act differently, too,” Papyrus doesn’t sound the least bit concerned, shaking out a generous amount of glitter onto the pasta before tossing it, “They have very different ideas about personal space! So touching is  _ a lot _ more casual there! If they like you, they’re going to touch you! In a platonic, casual affection sort of way! If they trust you, there is  _ a lot  _ more touching!”  
  
  
“Um,  ** _that_ ** ,” Stretch jerks his thumb towards the living room door, “That seems a lot less like ‘Getting to Know You’ and a lot more like ‘Dead Girl Walking.’ They are  _ totally  _ checking each other out, like  ** _super in depth,_ ** man.”  
  
  
“Hmm!” Papyrus looks pensive, frowning at his glittery noodles before opening a cupboard to pull out MTT Brand Sexy Sauce. He dumps the entire bottle on it before throwing it into the trash can on the other side of the room. Stretch claps politely, because that was a  _ really  _ nice shot, wow, “Well, when I first met Edge and he decided we would be friends, he wanted to see and know all about my scars! And then he insisted I had to do the same thing back!”  
  
  
“Huh,” Stretch says, because what else can he possibly say to that? If that’s what it takes to befriend these Fell types, then they’re just gonna have to remain distant,  ** _very _ ** distant acquaintances.   
  
  
Papyrus bends over to pull a tray of misshapen, black balls out the oven. Stretch can’t tell if they’re burnt or meant to look that way, but Papyrus scrapes them into his tossing bowl with great effort, “So maybe that’s the friendship scar check!” He clears his throat demurely, phrasing delicate while he stirs wildly enough some sauce whips onto the counter, “And if you’re romantically interested in someone, it’s a more involved check! A whole body check?”  
  
  
“I have absolutely no idea,” Stretch shrugs, ducking his head to avoid being whacked on the head by the cutlery drawer.  
  
  
“That’s just my theory! I’ve never actually asked Edge or Slim about it!” Papyrus shrugs, shifting the bowl to one arm as he starts rummaging in a cupboard for plates, “We should ask them!”  
  
  
“Let’s not and say we did,” Stretch can’t think of anything he would like to do  _ even less.  
  
  
_ “Lunch is ready!” Papyrus tells him instead, shoving two plates of glittery, mystery sauce pasta into his arms before sauntering out of the kitchen. Which isn’t an agreement, and Papyrus has that devious little twinkle in his sockets which means this is not going to end well for Stretch.   
  
  
“Usually we would eat at the dining table, but!” Papyrus addresses the room at large, accidentally nearly rolling a meatball off of the plate, “I will make an exception this case! Please sit up!!! And sit off of each other!!! It’s disturbing Stretch!”  
  
  
Just like Blue, Papyrus was absolutely ruthless in his honesty and doesn’t hesitate to throw him under the bus. He ducks behind the wall just as Slim and Edge turn to look at him, contemplating an escape through the window.  
  
  
“Stretch has a few questions for you!!” Papyrus twists the knife further, cheerful and excited, “About your culture and weird habit of hanging off of each other!! I’m very curious about that too! We don’t really know very much about Fell verses, and would love to know more! Right, Stretch?”  
  
  
He tries to activate his dormant chameleon powers and blend into the wall, or his latent ghost powers so he can just sink into the ground and disappear. Hopefully forever.  
  
  
“Stretch? Stretch??” Papyrus calls out again, before sighing deeply, “Oh, he must have fallen asleep in the kitchen! Just like my brother, Sans, he has a terrible habit of choosing the worst places to nap! Please enjoy my delicious spaghetti bolognese while I got and get him!”  
  
  
_ Great.  _ Welp, hopefully Pap’s pink, glittery spaghetti would kill him before he had to say anything else.   
  
__ Bone  appetite.


	3. Ignorance is Bliss (Please. Please stOP TALKING-)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, Papyrus' spaghetti is the most palatable thing of this whole entire 'dinner.'
> 
> Creepy. [i]Ouch.[/i]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stretch is just having a no good, terrible time in this story, lol. :,D I promise it'll get better the next chapter!
> 
> Is it a self-roast if you, but not technically you, is doing it about you? 
> 
> I don't think a chapter warning is necessary, but Edge is unintentionally harsh and hits Stretch where it hurts: the self esteem.

Stretch has been party to plenty of awkward dinners, but this definitely takes the cake. The caked on pasta.  _ Seriously _ . What the hell did Papyrus do to these poor noodles??  
  
  
For whatever reason, the mystery spaghetti hardened into a big clump that refuses to budge, no matter how many times Stretch hits it against plate. He gnaws on the corner experimentally, but his teeth are similarly unsuccessful. And they feel weirdly tingly the moment he stops. Great.   
  
  
“Nyehem,” Papyrus says something that sounds like he’s trying to clear his throat without actually clearing it, putting his fork down on his (untouched) plate.  
  
  
“So...” He trails off conversationally, giving Edge a big, friendly smile as he leans forward on his knees, “Am I right? Am I very right?! Can you please explain your whole scar checking greeting ritual?”  
  
  
Smooth. Stretch pushes the spaghetti around his plate with a deep sigh.  
  
  
“What do you mean?” Edge arches a brownbone in obvious confusion, sharing a glance with Slim who shrugs. But Slim looks like he’s much more interested in examining his boyfriend’s spine than Papyrus’ pasta. Or some cross cultural exchange lesson. /Gross./  
  
  
Rather than clarify the question, Papyrus just smiles even bigger and wider, and miraculously enough, that seems to work.  
  
  
“Oh! It’s a greeting,” Edge shifts to an angle that gives Slim more access, “No, wait, it’s a self-introduction! You do it by showing each other your scars! It’s easy!”  
  
  
He shrugs, like it’s the most natural thing in the world and Papyrus is the weirdo here. He gestures to Slim, who’s  _ still  _ poking around his spine in a way that borders on indecent, “Just like this! You see and touch!”  
  
  
This is getting nowhere. “ ** _Why_ ** do you check each other’s scars?” Stretch asks impatiently, resting his cheek on his fist, “What  ** _purpose _ ** does it serve?”  
  
  
“Purpose...” Edge repeats like he’s never considered that before, resting his arms and chin on Slim’s skull. The other skeleton doesn’t seem to mind, tugging lightly at each of Edge’s vertebrae. These guys are  _ so weird.  _ And so hard to ignore.  
  
  
“It’s to... understand,” Edge says at length, but he doesn’t look confident in his word choice, “Understand  _ who  _ you are. If I know what you’ve been through, I know what you’re capable of and what matters to you.”  
  
  
“How?” Stretch is still far from convinced, and he continues to poke at his solid spaghetti half-heartedly, “It’s so much easier to just CHECK a monster. That’ll tell you everything you need to know. If you’re  _ really  _ curious, maybe a friendly spar.”  
  
  
He gives Slim a pointed look as the Fell monster starts to poke around his boyfriend’s iliac crest, “And it’s not incredibly invasive or, you know,  **indecent ** to do  **in public.”  
  
  
** Frowning in obvious disappointment, Slim moves his hands to Edge’s arms instead. “S’not indecent...” He mutters sullenly, pawing at the gloves hiding the bones from view piteously, “Ya guys just make it  _ awkward _ . Why’re ya so wrapped up? Y’ain’t a gyftmas present. Y’ain’t never gotta  ** _ask _ ** to see scars at home...”  
  
  
Then all Fell monsters are fans of crop tops, torn pants, and huge gashes through their clothes? Explains a lot. Edge starts to pull off his gloves in response to his boyfriend’s whining, setting them on the arm of the couch as he offers his hand palm up.  
  
  
“CHECKs aren’t good enough,” The Fell monster shakes his head, still leaning on Slim’s skull with his free arm, “You can’t trust them because the stats and information are probably false. But these-“ Edge uses his finger to tap in his boyfriend’sneck, running his hand along a scar at the top of his spine. For some reason, it sends a cold shudder down Stretch’s spine. Weird. “ **These** don’t lie.”  
  
  
“Yeah, but then they could just lie about how they got their scars,” Stretch still doesn’t follow his logic, tapping at a very faint scar just above his nasal aperture, “I could tell you I got this ice skating. But maybe, instead, I got it from a a dumb science experiment that blew up in my face. Or maybe Papyrus here-“  
  
  
He jerks his thumb in the other skeleton’s direction, immensely satisfied when Papyrus jerks up at the sound of his name. Maybe a little petty, but he dragged them into this mess and has been suspiciously quiet, “Maybe  _ he  _ clocked me in the face once for finishing all of his Dino oatmeal.”  
  
  
“I would never!” Papyrus sounds so distressed it’s almost funny, wringing his hands nervously, “Annoyed, yes, and I would find a way to get back at you, of course, but not like  _ that _ ! And certainly not hard enough to leave a  ** _scar_ ** !”  
  
  
“You don’t know for sure,” Stretch doesn’t let him off the hook too easily, crossing his arms over his chest with a self-satisfied smile, “So how does that help you there?   
  
  
“Mmm,” Edge doesn’t look convinced, making a seesaw gesture with his hand, “Maybe, but then you would need to maintain the lie with  _ everybody _ . We all share the stories we heard, so if there are any details that don’t add up, everybody will know.”   
  
  
He shifts to give Slim his other hand without so much as a pause, “And you would need to have the same story at  _ all  _ times, including when you’re not sober or lucid. It’s too hard to do.”  
  
  
“Ok,” Stretch is done arguing this point, because it’s easier to agree to disagree. Fell monsters are just gossipy, whatever. He’s gonna be the the bigger skeleton and not bring up the fact that it’s probably  _ more  _ difficult to manipulate your own stats and keep them at that fake level in preparation of an unanticipated CHECK... “But you do that to everybody, right? Recent acquaintances, friends, family, your barber, etcetera?”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Slim confirms simply, playing with Edge’s wrist as he looks up curiously, “Why?”  
  
  
Uhhhh. He hadn’t been expecting this to be flipped on him. “Just curious. No reason,” he starts to say, trying to act casual and  _ dreading  _ as Papyrus sits up a little straighter, “None at all, and certainly  _ not  _ a reason we should  ** _ever _ ** share under  ** _any _ ** circumstances.  ** _Papyrus_ ** .” He gives the other skeleton a hard look.  
  
  
“You don’t need to be _embarrassed,_ Stretch!” Papyrus protests, clasping his hands to his chest passionately, “Neither of us understand Fell culture, so it’s only natural we would be confused! It’s perfectly reasonable to think that might be a way to flirt, too!”  
  
  
Slim’s expression remains carefully neutral except for his browbones that keep creeping up his forehead, “Flirt?”  
  
  
“Yes!” Papyrus is still so chipper, throwing him under the bus with his excessive honesty and frankness, “Stretch thought that Edge trying to touch his scar earlier was a little too intimate to be strictly platonic. He thought maybe you were interested in him! But we know  _ much  _ better now!”  
  
  
Well, it’s been a good run, and he has a lot of regrets, but whatever. If Slim wants to throw down over a really stupid misunderstanding, he’s as good as dust. He’d like to face this with dignity, but Stretch can’t keep himself from burrowing his face in his hands and hoping it’s nice and quick.  
  
  
“Oh,” Edge says uncomfortably, putting his plate to the side with a soft clatter. There’s a beat of silence, the calm before the storm, and Stretch peeks through his fingers to see Edge reach across the coffee table.  
  
  
“Papyrus!” He hisses desperately, giving the other skeleton’s wrist a firm yank and patting the seat next to him, obviously distress, “A word in private, please?”  
  
  
“Oh!” Papyrus stands up so quickly he knocks his fork off of his plate, trying to pick it up as he steps over the coffee table, “Please excuse me for a moment!”  
  
  
They just... they just stay in the same room, on the same couch ‘whispering’ loudly enough Stretch can hear every word very clearly.  
  
  
“How am I supposed to respond?” Edge sounds more than a little alarmed, finding Slim’s hand and squeezing it hard enough something pops, “I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but it’s rude to not say anything! How do I  _ nicely  _ tell him I  _ don’t _ find him attractive?”  
  
  
That... that was  _ super  _ pleasant to hear. He doesn’t need to worry about Slim dusting him, because the psychic damage of that blow is going to do him in. Stretch never really thought of himself as handsome, but he didn’t consider himself unattractive either.   
  
  
Slim winces sympathetically, mouth quirking into an unsure, weak smile as his eye lights flit between Edge and Stretch. Nice to know at least one person is in his corner.  
  
  
“Why don’t you find him attractive?” Papyrus asks cautiously, sounding sad and hesitant, “Do you not find  ** _me _ ** handsome and cool either?! We have a very similar appearance!”  
  
  
“I didn’t say  ** _that!”_ ** Edge backpedals immediately, leaning away from Papyrus and finally letting go of his hand. Slim, picking up on his boyfriend’s distress, pulls him into his lap in a tight hug. “He’s just...  _ not  _ my type!”  
  
  
Papyrus leans away to eye Slim head to toe, leaning back to shout-whisper, “Stretch looks almost  _ exactly  _ like your boyfriend! How is he  ** _not _ ** your type?!”  
  
  
“Stretch isn’t  ** _bad-“_ ** Edge says that in that tone of voice that implies he is trying to be polite about something he obviously doesn’t like, “But he’s just... so...  _ pristine _ . Like a porcelain doll!”   
  
  
Edge actually shudders, “It’s  _ creepy _ ! I don’t trust monsters without scars.”  
  
  
Creepy.  ** _Creepy._ ** Wow. So he was _just_ outranked by Chucky on the hotness meter.  _ Creepy.  _ Ouch.  
  
  
“ _ I _ don’t have very many scars!” Papyrus reminds him cheerfully, with a definite warble of apprehension in his voice, “Am  _ I  _ creepy, too?”  
  
  
Edge  _ avoids  _ answering the question. “ _ You _ can  ** _fight_ ** ,“ Well then, maybe he and Papyrus can form a support group for creepy, unattractive monsters without scars. “ He doesn’t look like he’s  _ ever  _ fought before  _ in his life _ ! I might break him by just  _ breathing  _ on him!”  
  
  
“Sure he can!” Stretch is a little surprised to hear Papyrus vouch for his fighting abilities so emphatically, wow. He complains about him and Sans being so lazy all the time, it’s so nice that-  “He just doesn’t  **like ** to do it! He’s just very, very lazy! But he  _ can  _ absolutely fight if he chooses too! It’s just! He hardly ever chooses to fight!”  
  
  
Why is Stretch still here? He shouldn’t listen to this, he doesn’t  **want ** to listen to this. There’s nothing keeping him here so he should just go, just leave-  
  
  
Edge turns to him like he didn’t just overhear that brutal conversation. The Fell monster looks very earnest as he says, apologetically, “Thank you. I’m very flattered, but I’m already in a relationship. If we decide to open it, you’ll be the first to know.”  
  
  
He gestures to Slim, as if Stretch hasn’t watched them be all weirdly touchy feely  ** _all afternoon. _ ** (Or what  _ feels  _ like all afternoon! Has it really only been an hour?!) And then Slim fucking  _ waves  _ at him, like this is the frist time they met. It’s absolutely  _ infuriating.  
  
  
_ “Ok,” Stretch says with a shrug, because what else can he do about it? He’ll just stick that in some mental file cabinet to cry and think about later. Probably as he lays awake, staring at the ceiling, for the rest of his life, “But please don’t. I’m really not interested.” Well, he tries to get a cheap shot in anyway.  
  
  
“I understand your confusion! It’s very different for you, I know, and it’s very difficult to explain Fell,” Edge is still trying to be nice, either ignoring or not having heard that last statement, but Stretch is so over all of this. He’s just going to go home and crawl into bed for the rest of forever-  
  
  
“So come to Underfell with us! See it yourself!”  
  
  
“Come to Underfell?” Stretch repeats dumbly, not quite understanding what Edge is proposing, “ ** _Me?_ ** With  ** _you _ ** guys?”  
  
  
“‘N Pap, too,” Slim adds amicably, reaching over to clap Papyrus on the back in a friendly gesture. The Undertale skeleton’s smile is positively radiant even as the corners of his sockets well up with tears of pain.  
  
  
“You can’t understand Fell culture just by talking to us,” Edge shifts so he’s sitting on Slim’s knee, leaning back on his chest to keep balance, “You need to experience it! And then you’ll be able to see what Fellverse flirting really looks like!”  
  
  
As though he wasn’t getting any exposure to Fellverse flirting right now. As if he ever wanted to see it again.   
  
  
Edge misinterprets his stupefied silence, adding slyly, “Maybe even get an Underfell lover of your own!” He runs a hand along Slim’s jaw as if that’s supposed to be enticing.  _ Weirdos.  
  
  
_ “I’ve never been to Underfell before!” Papyrus sounds giddy at the prospect, bouncing on his spot on the couch excitedly, “I’m going to take a lot of pictures to show everybody later!”  
  
  
Slim tilts his head to the side, looking contemplative as he loops one arm around his boyfriend’s waist, “Ya can come to Swapfell when m’bro’s not as stressed. S’lil...” He trails off, obviously trying to find the right word before shrugging, “Intense, yeah. S’much better when he ain’t so stressed.”  
  
  
No one seems to be putting a stop to this.   
  
  
**_Why isn’t anyone putting a stop to this??_**


	4. Off to Murder City with Punkrock Bonnie and Clyde...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stretch tries really hard not to get badgered into going along... and decides he's gonna do it, anyway!

Once again, Stretch finds himself in the very undesirable position of being the Voice of Reason.TM  
  
  
“Hang on, let me just- Let me get this straight... You want _us,” _He points at himself and Papyrus for extra emphasis, voice incredulous, “To go to _your _universe. _Your _universe_s_. Your _hometowns.”  
  
  
_Edge and Slim just look at him blankly, looking at each other, before answering in unison and the same exact tone, “Yes?”  
  
  
“The place where _you _were_ just_**_ attacked!_** The place where they gave you one of the_ worst injuries_ I have ever _seen _in my **_life,”_** Stretch points at Edge’s bandage accusingly, “The place where the monsters who _nearly killed you _are, presumably, _still _hanging around. Probably waiting for you to show up so they can**_ finish the job._** And probably don’t want any pesky witnesses around.”  
  
  
“No, no- it’s not that bad! You worry too much!” Edge waves his hand dismissively, smiling indulgently like Stretch is being fussy about something small, like this isn’t potentially life and eath, “This is-!”  
  
  
He pats at the bandages over the wound, obviously considering his word choice, but it makes Stretch wince. A wound like that needs to be left alone for magic to do its thing in peace. Fortunately, Slim gets the same idea, drawing Edge’s hand away from it to kiss along his knuckles.  
  
  
“An accident!” He settles on cheerfully, as though _that _explains anything, “It was a trap meant for a boss monster with **_much _**higher LV and HP! So you are only in danger **_if _**your LV and EXP are very high!”  
  
  
He gestures at Stretch and Papyrus with a smile, “None of our traps will hurt you because you are too weak! But that’s okay because we will protect you! So you are _very _safe!”  
  
  
Great, not only is he creepy like a doll, he’s being called a weakling now, too.  
  
  
“Thanks but I’m gonna pass,” Stretch sighs deeply, wanting nothing more than to fall back into bed and sleep for the next ten years, “No offense, but going to Murder City with Punkrock Bonnie and Clyde seems like it’s just gonna end badly for me.”  
  
  
He hears Slim sigh loudly, and can feel the weight of his disapproving gaze on his shoulders. Okay, okay, he’d stop with the snide literary and historical references. Stretch slumps back in his chair until his head is hanging back over the headrest, borderline painful as he shrugs in Papyrus’ direction, “You’re a grown bones, though, so do whatever you want-”  
  
  
“You don’t **_trust _**us?!” He hears Edge stand up, insulted and indignant, “You don’t think we _can _**_protect _**you?!”  
  
  
Yeah, this was a bad day to crawl out of bed. Totally not going to get up tomorrow-  
  
  
Stretch suddenly jolts upright when something very heavy and jangly is placed on his lap. It’s a sack of some kind, an unremarkable brown bag with the drawstring drawn up tightly. He glances up at Edge’s scowl with dread, half-expecting to see something unpleasant as he pulls at the drawstring... Huh? It’s shiny? What is-?  
  
  
“Is this your gold purse?!” He starts to ask, fumbling to close it and pass it back to the Fell monster. “What?!_ Why?!_ I don’t-!”  
  
  
“It’s a _guarantee,”_ Edge is looking down at him with something a little scarier than a pout, but equally surly and hurt. The Fell skeleton crosses his arms over his chest haughtily, **_“If _**Slim and I **_can’t _**protect you in Underfell and harm comes to you,” He gestures to the bag with his chin, “Then you can **_keep _**it. All 500 pieces.”  
  
  
500 pieces?! That’s not exactly pocket change here, and Edge wants him to be responsible for it?! He doesn’t have a stomach he can be sick to, but it _feels _super unpleasant anyway.  
  
  
“We **_just _**met!” Stretch’s voice goes up an octave as panic begins to well up in his soul, pushing the sack back towards Edge, “You don’t know anything about me! I could be a burglar! I might run away with all your money and hide!”  
  
  
“Yer primary SOUL trait’s Integrity, so ya wouldn’t,” Slim chimes in unhelpfully, coming to stand by Edge. He rests his chin on his shoulder and wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s bottommost rib, “‘N ya know we’d find ya, if ya tried”  
  
  
Why did this guy only contribute to the conversation to undermine Stretch? He thought they were friends!   
  
  
“Well!” He scowls at Slim, scrambling for more reasons to avoid going, “I’m very clumsy and uncoordinated, so I might trip and send it all flying to the ground! Or I might trip and hurt myself despite your best efforts! I’m too much of a liability!”  
  
  
“Won’t happen s’long as it’s in yer inventory,” Slim shrugs gently so he’s not jostling Edge in the process, calm and collected, “N’yer kinda nervous, so don’t think ya’d keep it where ya’d drop it.”  
  
  
Damn it! Why did Slim have to become Sherlock _now _when it was most inconvenient for him?!  
  
  
“I’m weak and sickly,” Stretch coughs into his hand for extra emphasis, “Like a... Victorian Porcelain doll of an ill child-“ Everybody else has been making fun of him so far, might as well use it to his advantage, “Like Tiny Tim! I’m Tiny Tim, okay, and I’m just unsuited to rough and tumble places. One wrong move and it’ll be curtains for me.”  
  
  
_“I _have a brother with low HP!” Edge tells him passionately, obviously still pretty worked up from Stretch’s lack of faith, “He has lived in Underfell**_ all his life _**and he is! Fine! I **_can_** protect you!”  
  
  
Weird pause, but okay. Edge is obviously feeling better, moving around a lot more than he should in his condition even with Slim hanging off of him like the world’s least effective deterrent. The Underfell monster stomps his foot like a toddler as he demands, “Why are you making excuses? Do you **_not _**_want _to come?” His tone isn’t unkind as he asks, a little more softly, “Are you scared?”  
  
  
What kind of question was that?! Of **_course _**he’s scared! Who **_wouldn’t _**be scared?! For some reason, though, Stretch can’t bear to add ‘coward’ to the list of negative adjectives thrown his way today.   
  
  
“It’s not that! Look, I’d _love _to go, really, it sounds like a ball-“ Stretch shrugs, trying very hard to look casual as he tucks the money purse into his inventory since having it just sprawled on his lap like that is making him anxious, “But I **_can’t._** My brother, well, he’s a little overprotective, okay? He’d have a conniption and a half if he knew where I wanted to go, and I like to spare him any unnecessary pain.”  
  
  
“It’s very true!” Papyrus had been unusually quiet this whole time, and Stretch actually startles a little bit at his voice. That guy is hardly a shrinking violet, but he must have taken advantage of the back and forth to get rid of the dishes, “Stretch’s brother, whom we call Blue, is **_very _**passionate about the things he cares about! And he cares about his brother and his very delicate health-“ Stretch gives him the stink eye, and at least Papyrus looks a little apologetic, but it doesn’t stop him at all, “_A lot! _So he would be very, **_very_** reluctant to send Stretch somewhere potentially dangerous!”  
  
  
Yeah... The one time Blue’s overprotective nature actually works out in his favor. Stretch sighs in relief, hoping very much it sounds defeated and dejected instead.  
  
  
“But!!” Papyrus clutches Stretch’s hands passionately, leaning a little too close, “He cares about your happiness _even more!_ If you tell him you _want _to go!!! That you will be _hanging out_ with _friends!!! _He will be happy and supportive!”  
  
  
Papyrus pulls him into a tight hug, using the gesture of friendship as a _betrayal,_ grabbing Stretch’s phone from his pocket.   
  
  
“Don’t!” He protests, jumping to his feet and desperately pressing down on Papyrus’ head as painfully as he can, trying to grab the phone that’s _just _out of reach, “He’s training with Al today!”  
  
  
Growing increasingly desperate, he starts to jab Papyrus in the funny bone, “He’s learning Royal dining etiquette!” **_Stab! Stab! Stab! _**“It’s a faux pas to answer your phone at the table! He’ll be _disgraced!”  
  
  
_“Nyeh heh heh! _Stoooop_! Heh heh! Nooo, it feels weird!!!” Papyrus’ arm buckles under the onslaught, and Stretch managed to grab his phone... just as the ringing stops.  
  
  
”Hi Pappy!” Blue’s voice is loud and tinny, cheerful except for that very obvious note of worry, “Is everything okay?”  
  
  
“Heya, Bro,” Stretch replies, pushing down even harder on Papyrus’ head in petty revenge. He hopes his brother can’t hear his friend’s squeal of discomfort, “Everything’s peachy! Sorry to bug you, I think accidentally buttdialed you-“  
  
  
“That’s fine!” Blue answers too quickly, obviously unconvinced and not really listening, “You can call me about anything at any time, you know! I’m always here for you, and I can come and pick you up at _any time_ for absolutely _any reason! _No questions asked! I don’t want you to stay in an uncomfortable or dangerous situation, after all!”  
  
  
“Okay, bro,” Stretch replies thinly, rubbing at his nasal aperture as he walks away from Papyrus and the two Fell monsters. Blue’s still under the impression you need to _scream _into the phone to make sure they can hear you on the other end, so they can probably hear every word.  
  
  
“But at the same time, Pappy-“ Stretch holds back a sigh, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, “I don’t want you to miss out on something fun! It’s not often you get to hang out with friends, so make sure you’re taking advantage of all opportunities! Don’t be afraid to go out anywhere and spend as much as you need! If the group wants to go, I don’t know, bowling or something, you go ahead, okay?”  
  
  
“Okay, bro,” Stretch sighs that time, pushing the phone closer to his skull as if that’ll keep the others from overhearing this ‘conversation.’ He would go to the kitchen, but the reception is terrible and _that _would cause even more trouble.  
  
  
“I know, I know-“ Blue sighs back, forlorn in a way that’s obviously trying to inspire sympathy, “You’re tired of hearing all this! Well, if there’s really nothing you wanted to ask or tell me, I won’t keep you any longer-“  
  
  
“Can he sleepover?”  
  
  
Slim’s raspy whisper is _way _too close, but before Stretch can move away, he’s swept up in surprisingly strong arms. It’s really strange to be cranium to cranium with Slim, and even more so to have his feet dangling off the ground. He’s not used to being the short one.  
  
  
“Oh! Um, Slim?” Blue sounds just as startled, but he recovers smoothly enough, “Hi! Was Pappy on speaker this whole time?! Oh my goodness, that’s so embarrassing! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that, Papyrus! I hope I didn’t embarrass you in front of your few friends!”  
  
  
“It’s fine,” Stretch shrugs under Slim’s arms, still not sure _why _his friend decided picking him up and putting their skulls together was somehow more effective than just taking the phone away, “I don’t think I had any dignity to begin with.”  
  
  
“Oh, Pappy!” Blue’s exasperation earns a deep chuckle from Slim, which is fine. Seems like today is the day everybody is going to get in their cheap shot at Stretch. “Don’t say things like that! Now, Slim, you wanted him to stay for a sleepover?”  
  
  
“Yep,” Slim seems content to leave it at that, and only adds an explanation when Papyrus gestures at the phone encouragingly. He does not put Stretch down, “Gonna meet my brother’n’law. Hang out. Real chill.”  
  
  
“Um, a **_fellverse?”_** Blue’s only hang up is the fellverse thing? He didn’t even blink at ‘brother-in-law’ part?? “I don’t think that’s a very good idea for my baby brother-“  
  
  
“We’ll take _very _good care of him,” Edge cuts in smoothly, grabbing Slim’s arm and giving his boyfriend a look that’s difficult to interpret. That puts Stretch between them, again, mid-air this time, but whatever. He’ll take weird staring contests over bone fondling any day.  
  
  
“Who is that? Has my brother _said _he wants to go?” Blue is still skeptical, like he’s afraid Stretch had been bullied into this. Which is a fair and accurate assumption, especially in this case, but it still kind of stings, “Put my brother back on, please. Pappy? Is that you? Do you _really _want to go? Are you okay with this?”  
  
  
Ah. He feels multiple pairs of eyes on him now, and a concerned, staticky silence. The ball is in his court now. Stretch could just refuse to go, and just carry the epithet of coward for the rest of his life. It’s not like he’s ever had much pride, and Blue would undoubtedly support his decision as being sound and safe.  
  
  
But... this is the first time anyone’s really, really wanted _Stretch_. It’s to prove a point, sure, but they _want _**him** and _just _**him **for this outing. Edge doesn’t know Blue, doesn’t care about Blue’s opinion, but he does care about _Stretch’s _opinion and perception of him. Edge would be _so _disappointed and offended if he didn’t come. And... And it would be a lie to say he wasn’t curious about Fell universes, and there’d be Fell monsters watching his back and showing him around...  
  
  
“Hello? Pappy?!” Blue asks, the sound of muffled tapping coming over the receiver, “Did I hit the wrong button again?! Blast these confounded little things!” His brother grumbles loudly and it sounds like he’s shaking the phone, “Did they hang up on me?! Oh my God, what if they **_kidnapped _**my baby brother?! Oh, I **_knew _**I shouldn’t have let him go alone! Alphys! Al! I need to go, my brother has been _kidnapped _and is being _held for ransom-”  
  
  
_“It’s fine, Sans, I wanna go,” Stretch’s voice sounds steady and sure, which surprises him but he’s not going to look gift-courage in the mouth, “I think it’ll be fun to hang out with my friends, and you’re right. I’ve got to maximize opportunities, right?”  
  
  
Just like that, Blue’s opinion of the whole situation flips. “Okay! This is so wonderful, Pappy! Your first sleepover!” Blue’s gushing is super embarrassing, but Edge looks far too pleased to tease him about it. The fell monster makes some sort of gesture to Slim, and Stretch is suddenly on his own two feet again.  
  
  
“Do you need me to run you a bag of toiletries and some clothes? Maybe I could pack some snacks for you?”  
  
  
“Nah, it’s cool, Sans,” Stretch answers, distracted, watching as Slim and Edge have some sort of conversation/argument. Slim scoops his boyfriend up, bridal style, and carries him out of the room. What are they up to now?? “I’ll just borrow some clothes from Pap, and I have my toothbrush in my inventory. Thanks though.”  
  
  
“Hello, Blue!” Papyrus approached when he hears his name, crowding close to the phone as his own volume increases, “Do not worry! Your brother is in good hands! We will have a lot of fun together!”  
  
  
“Knowing you’re going, too, makes me feel so much better!” Blue yells back, and Stretch winces at the volume, “Please make sure the clothes you lend him aren’t scratchy or anything! He has very sensitive bones that chafe easily!”  
  
  
“Of course! I’ll go back pack now! Have a good evening! Goodbye, Blue!” He’s relieved when Papyrus wanders away and his brother goes down a decibel, “Have fun, be safe, and make good choices! If you need anything, _anything _at all, be sure to call me, okay?”  
  
  
“Okay,” Stretch nods even though his brother can’t see it, “Get back to your etiquette lesson, or they’ll never let you into the court.”  
  
  
“I wasn’t _stalling _or anything! I just want to make sure my baby brother isn’t being mistreated!” Blue doesn’t quite sigh, probably because Al is glaring daggers at him, but it’s a near thing. Well, his brother knew that being the Royal Guard’s court appointed representative wasn’t going to be easy. “You’re right, though, I need to go. Love you, have fun, good night, Pappy!”  
  
  
“Love you, too, bro, bye-” Stretch just manages to get in before the dial tone starts up. He takes a look around the now empty room, wondering where everyone was. They wouldn’t just _leave _him behind after all that, right?  
  
  
“Stretch!” Papyrus calls down from the second floor, holding up two different types of crop tops, “Would you prefer the ‘Best (Dad) Papyrus’ or ‘Free Hugs’ shirt?” He looks thoughtful, “Or would you prefer something else?”  
  
  
“The Best one is fine,” Stretch answers with a shrug, more preoccupied with the fact that _he _wants to go to Underfell. What‘s come over him? Was he coming down with a case of SOUL flu?   
  
  
“Good! Because I really, really wanted the free hugs shirt!” Papyrus vaults over the second floor railing, floating down as gracefully and serenely as Dorothy’s house in the _Wizard of Oz._ Stretch manages to avoid the boot that came too close, but not the duffel bag thrown at his chest. It’s weirdly heavy for something covered in happy alpacas and cactuses.  
  
  
“I hope you don’t mind!” Papyrus hooks his arm through Stretch’s own, cheerfully herding him out the door and around the house, “I thought since we will be sharing clothes, we might as well share the same bag, too!”  
  
  
“It’s no prob-_llama,”_ Stretch winks, enjoying his buddy’s long-suffering sigh, before poking an alpaca curiously, “Kinda heavy though. Are you packing for several days? Or maybe some spare bricks or dictionaries?”  
  
  
“Heavens, no!” Papyrus pulls him around the storage shed (that’s on the wrong side of the yard) and into Sans’ workshop, “I’m assuming Edge has all the dictionaries and bricks we’ll need there! I’ve only packed the essentials for us both!”  
  
  
Slim’s hunched over the little terminal, punching coordinates and permissions in as Edge supervises him, briefly glancing up as they enter. Papyrus continues chattering happily, unperturbed by Stretch’s sigh of relief, “There’s toiletries, a change of clothes, a back up change of clothes, a back up of the backup, a key to the house, a key to Sans’ weird part of the shed-“  
  
  
Stretch shouldn’t be this (weirdly) relieved to see them. Logically, there’s absolutely no way Edge is going to leave him behind- he’s still got this guy’s coin curse burning a hole in his inventory, after all! But he’s been burned so many times, unintentionally forgotten or purposefully ditched, that it sends grateful excitement throughout his SOUL.   
  
  
“206 bones, all five seasons of Mettaton’s Fresh Robot of New Home, a compass, rope, some chains, wire cutters, rubber gloves, some charcoal, a little bit of oil, a teensy bit of gasoline-“  
  
  
The machine comes ONLINE with a deafening roar of magic, unknown science, and DETERMINATION, creating a formless, swirling black mass that hangs mid-air. The middle of the mass starts to drip away, and a shed very similar to this one starts to come into focus. But Stretch can’t tear his gaze away from the little black droplets. They oozed down the edges before they became caught in some sort of gravitational-magical force, circling the portal like a tiny asteroid belt. There isn’t a pattern there- there CAN’T be a pattern there- but out of the corner of his eye, there are things that almost look like letters.  
  
  
A R E... Y O U ... T H E ... A R E ... WE ... C O N .... NO ... NOT ... WHO ... SEE .... EEP ... SEA ....   
  
  
“Stretch?”   
  
  
Papyrus’ gentle voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and suddenly his head _hurts _so much he swears he can see stars. He starts to stagger backwards before there’s a steadying presence at his back, and arms around his neck.  
  
  
“Not getting cold feet on me now, are you?” Edge asks, speaking almost directly against his skull.   
  
  
“Uh, nope,” Whatever Stretch was thinking before is quickly forgotten at the very strange sensation of being ‘hugged’ from behind like this. His eyes flit from Edge to the doorway, a little uncomfortable, “Just... waiting for you to lead the way.”  
  
  
“Hah!” Edge pushes him away with a laugh, grabbing Papyrus by the arm instead, “Shall we?”  
  
  
“Of course!” Papyrus walks straight through the portal like he belongs there, every bit at ease walking into an unknown, scary, murdertrap world as his own front door.   
  
  
Uh. The full weight of what he’s about to do crashes on Stretch all at once, and he’s suddenly wondering if this is a good idea. The door-portal suddenly looks very daunting and dangerous, magic swirling a very unwelcoming mix of red and black-  
  
  
He jumps when something heavy is thrown around his shoulders, jerking his head to the side to see some skeletal fingers. He turns to the right to find Slim grinning at him, inches away from his face.   
  
  
Are they buddies now? Is that why they’re so cuddly all of a sudden? It looks like the Fell monster really, _really _wants to say something, so Stretch represses his discomfort to smile as amicably as he can, “Yeah?”  
  
  
“_I_ think yer cute,” Slim tells him very seriously, with a pointed little wink that’s somehow audible, _“Real_ cute.”  
  
  
That’s... that’s really nice. Slim is probably only saying that to be nice; he probably thinks Stretch is as unappealing as Edge does, as thin-boned and unmarred as a porcelain doll. But... but no one has ever called Stretch _cute _before. Well, except for his brother, but that doesn’t count because Blue has to think his baby brother is cute.  
  
  
“Thanks!” He’s so swept up in the giddiness that someone _so cool _and _dangerous_ thinks he’s cute, he doesn’t remember to be apprehensive about what’s on the other side of this portal. That is, until he realizes they’re both on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing with a lot of headcanons with this one! :'D 
> 
> next time, it's off to underfell!
> 
> Thanks so much for your support! <3


	5. Why do you even *have* an invisible edgelord beam?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes the gang a long time to get out of the basement. Things are already... different in unexpected ways, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are pretty mild, I think, but some warnings/heads up just in case:
> 
> Spoilers for Kill la Kill in the paragraph that starts with: “I saw an anime about this with Undyne, you know.” So, if you haven't seen that yet and don't want to be spoiled, don't read it. Skip down to: “We look like we shouldn’t be allowed to dress ourselves..." instead! It'll make sense! :D 
> 
> Also, some teasing/mocking about exhibitionism kink/being naked in public, starting with:   
“You don’t have to stay in those clothes..." Skip down to the line that starts with: “Let’s get goin’,”

The first thing Stretch notices on the other side of the portal is that... nothing looks different.   
  
  
There isn’t a thick layer of dust on everything, and the ground isn’t littered with broken stonework or rotting wooden beams. There aren’t cobwebs on the ceiling littered with silk-wrapped mummies, and large spiders with beady eyes and dripping fangs don’t watch them from the shadows. There’s no pools of nasty water just festering nearby, with pond scum on the surface and dead faces in the water.  
  
  
It just... looks and feels like a regular old storeroom. Actually, it’s probably nicer than  _ their  _ weird secret lab-basement. There’s a nice floral scent in the air, like someone just sprayed an air freshner, and a homey rug in the middle of the floor. It’s blue with little white bones on it.   
  
  
Okay… Underfell looks a lot less like Mordor than he expected, but maybe that was the whole point. Maybe every single tile in this room is booby trapped, and the only thing standing between them and certain death is an inscrutable pattern-  
  
  
“...What are you doing?”  
  
  
Stretch is so busy scanning the room for tripwires and suspiciously loose tiles that he forgets he’s not alone. He barely manages to keep himself from screaming, crushing himself against Slim like he’s trying to hide in his rib cage. Something jangles strangely. The Swapfell monster seems more amused than anything, patting his back in a reassuring way as he turns to shut the portal off.  
  
  
“I’m trying to figure out this puzzle,” Stretch frowns at the floor, keeping his grip on Slim’s shirt as he prods the tile directly in front of his right shoe with a blue bone. It doesn’t immediately snap up, but it might be a pressure plate, “I don’t want to step on the wrong tile and have it, like, spray me with acid or shoot poison darts at me.”  
  
  
He pokes it rapidly with the toe of his shoe, using the other skeleton to keep his balance, “I’ve seen all the Indiana Jones movies, half of the first Saw one, and all of Papyrus’ traps in Snowdin,” He glances up with narrowed sockets, “I  _ know  _ how this goes.”  
  
  
“You think I would booby trap my own house?” Edge sounds utterly baffled, looking at the floor like it will give him answers, “Why?  _ Why  _ would I do that to myself?” He scratches at his skull, “Deactivating and recalibrating traps every time I wanted to do...  _ anything  _ sounds like a  ** _nightmare!”  
  
  
_ ** “It’ll be a  _ skeleton  _ for work, sure, but I don’t know why’d you do that,” Stretch finally eases himself onto the tile, noticing that weird jangle again, before giving the one next to it the same treatment, “You’re the evil mastermind here. You tell me.”  
  
  
“Don’t take it personally, Edge!” Papyrus whisper-shouts, trying to hide his mouth behind his gloves as though he has lips to read, “The low HP makes him paranoid!”  
  
  
“It does  ** _not!”_ ** Stretch looks up with a scowl, just barely resisting the urge to stomp his foot petulantly, “I’m  _ rightfully  _ ** _cautious_ ** , and it’s  _ not  _ because of my HP! Any sensible monster  _ should  _ be cautious! And I’m  **NOT ** _ paranoid- _ “  
  
  
The thing jangles again.  
  
  
“Do you hear something?!” He demands, looking around the room suspiciously, “An ominous, weird jangly sound?”  
  
  
Edge and Papyrus exchange a flat look like they were right and he IS paranoid, but it’s  ** _not _ ** paranoia when something is  _ actually  _ ** _off!_ ** Is he the only one who can hear it? Maybe it’s a psychic attack from a monster not in this room? He very carefully does a little circuit in the four tiles he’s deemed safe, stepping on Slim’s toes in the process, and he hears it again for a little longer.  
  
  
“There! You heard it that time, didn’t you?” He demands, pointing at the corners of the room accusingly, hoping whatever it is will appear, but Edge and Papyrus are remarkably nonplussed. Undeterred, he grabs onto Slim’s shirt, giving him a little shake, “Slim. Buddy. You heard that, right? It’s not just me?”  
  
  
Slim smiles at him a little sadly, clearly taking pity on him as he puts a comforting hand on Stretch’s shoulder, “S’just yer shirt.”  
  
  
“My shirt?” The worst thing about this is that he’s _ right. _ Well, sort of- shirt is a  ** _very _ ** generous description for this monstrosity.  
  
  
It’s an  _ incredibly  _ tight long sleeve ‘shirt’ that somehow still leaves Stretch feeling more exposed than ever, with more holes in the sleeves than Swiss cheese. This poor shirt is so beaten up that it has safety pins holding the sleeves onto it, making him feel like he’s also wearing a tank top at the same time. And it’s  ** _way too short,_ ** ending just above his last rib to leave too much spine on display for comfort. For whatever reason, there’s also fringe made up of safety pins at the very bottom which has been making that strange jangly sound by brushing together.   
  
  
“What?” Stretch  _ knows  _ he wasn’t wearing this, knows he didn’t stop to change into this, doesn’t own anything that even  ** _looks _ ** like this twenty miles out in the pouring rain! “What the hell?” He pokes it tentatively, afraid it’s some weird hallucination. “What  _ is  _ this?! Where did it come from?! Why is it on my body?!  ** _Where are my clothes?!”  
  
  
_ ** He kind of forgets Slim is there until he can feel the other skeleton holding him up, not even realizing he had been slowly slumping to the ground.   
  
  
“I saw an anime about this with Undyne, you know,” he tells Slim seriously, eyeing ‘his’ clothes with distaste, “Evil, skimpy clothes that take over your body, and then try to take over the world...” He flicks at a safety pin with a sigh, “At least those looked kind of cool. These look like what they show first year tailor students in the weed out clothes making 101 course.”  
  
  
“I think you look good!” Oh no, he didn’t even notice poor Papyrus had been attacked by the ugly clothes aliens, too. He’s got a tight t-shirt on with a really weird logo on it, and fishnet sleeves (gloves?) extending down to his knuckles. And so many bracelets and belts with silver studs all over the place, holding up black jeans that were mauled by a werewolf and... checkerboard vans. Well, okay, the shoes aren’t too bad...   
  
  
But the clothes aliens have already taken over his mind, because poor Papyrus is  _ admiring  _ himself like he  _ actually  _ ** _likes _ ** it! “I think  **I ** look good, too! We  _ both  _ look good!”  
  
  
“We look like we shouldn’t be allowed to dress ourselves AND should be banned from the craft section of every store.” Stretch is too scared to look at his legs and see what monstrosity he’s wearing there, but he has felt some sort of chain brush against his leg and caught a peek at what looks like black combat boots. He hasn’t worn anything with laces since he was 5.   
  
  
“Was this your trap?” Stretch asks Edge, increasingly resigned to his fate, “I stepped on this tile and got me and Pap zapped by an invisible edgelord beam? Why do you even  ** _have _ ** an invisible edgelord beam?”  
  
  
“I don’t have  ** _any _ ** traps here,” Edge tells him impatiently, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall, obviously trying to look cool. What really sucks is that he sort of pulls it off, “And even if I did, I would NEVER, EVER use a  ** _laser!_ ** ”   
  
  
He gestures at the now-off machine to the other side of the room, “It was that thing! It always does that when you go to a different universe!”  
  
  
“Yeah, right,” Stretch scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest (it takes him a few tries because of all those stupid safety pins) and giving Edge a look, “The machine, or your universe itself, decides it has an aesthetic that everyone  _ must  _ conform too, and reconfigures your appearance so you don’t stand out as much?”  
  
  
Actually, when he put it like that, it didn’t sound completely crazy. Especially since he was getting a better look at Edge and Slim. Sure, they’re still wearing black, ripped clothes, but the red leather jacket and the beanie are new...  
  
  
Okay. Okay. Weirder things have happened.  
  
  
“You don’t have to  _ stay  _ in those clothes if you hate them so much-”  
  
  
Papyrus cuts Edge off with an outraged gasp, eyelights bugging out of his skull comically, “You want him to wander around  ** _naked?!”  
  
  
_ ** “No?!” Edge looks even more offended, putting a hand to his chest as though wounded, “In Snowdin?! He’d get deathly sick! Didn’t you pack some spare clothes?!”  
  
  
“Of course I did!” Papyrus looks the most offended he can, putting both his hands against his chest, leaning against the wall heavily for dramatic effect, “What kind of host doesn’t have an extra set of clothes for their guests prepared, in the event their clothes burn off and they are left naked?! I wouldn’t dream of it!!”  
  
  
Super weird to have everyone talking about him wandering around naked like he isn’t there, fully-clothed, but... Wait. “Uh, just a thought, but earlier in Pap’s house,” he scratches at the back of his head, “Are you telling me the clothes you were wearing weren’t the Undertale clothes you were given? Your rib cage was, like, actively dusting and you stopped to change your shirt because... it wasn’t black?”  
  
  
Edge stares at him, not answering, before turning to the stairs, hands on his hips like he’s evaluating them to make sure they still work, “Well,  _ I’m  _ not an exhibitionist like you! I don’t like being  _ naked  _ in front of skeletons I don’t know well!”  
  
  
Stretch stares at his back incredulously, “ _ Me? _ I’m way more dressed than you are, even with your weird edgy clothes forced on me. You’re not even wearing a shirt under that jacket. And those pants are  _ way  _ too low to be decent, and those tears are big enough to make them look like shorts. If anyone’s got an exhibitionist kink, it’s you-”  
  
  
“Let’s get goin’,” Slim and his boyfriend haven’t been interacting as much here as they were in Pap’s living room, but he still comes to his rescue. Stretch is picked up and taken across the room, deposited on the stairs so he doesn’t have to step on any of the tiles. Huh. What a thoughtful guy.  
  
  
“Yes, finally!” Papyrus sighs, bouncing on his toes impatiently, having completely moved on from everything, “Not that I don’t love spending time in a basement that looks almost exactly like mine! But I don’t!”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Stretch agrees absently, hesitating in front of the door and eyeing the doorknob suspiciously, “But... we’re not exactly from around here...”  
  
  
He looks at Slim and Edge, who are on the same step but standing weirdly far apart, “Is it... safe?”  
  
  
_ "Very _ safe,” Edge reassures him, apparently willfully ignoring the criticism of his outfit even as he fusses with his belt. He pushes past them to open the door himself, “Even though your clothes will help you fit in, everyone will quickly realize you’re not from around here.” Although he’s holding it open for them, he’s standing in the doorway like he doesn’t want them to leave quite yet, “Just don’t get involved in any fights and don’t settle any arguments, and you’ll be just fine,” He pauses, obviously thinking, before continuing, “If anyone tries to give you any trouble, tell them  ** _Papyrus the Terrible _ ** guarantees your safety. Both of you. And then offer them  _ one  _ piece of gold. Only one! If they take it, it means they’ll also help you out if you need it, but you will not need it. But make sure you write their name down so I can get my gold back later.”  
  
  
He drums at his hips nervously, “Is there anything else? Don’t eat yellow snow,  _ of course,  _ but I think you already know that-“  
  
  
This is giving Stretch a weird sense of deja vu, even though Edge and Blue are  ** _nothing _ ** alike.  
  
  
“Yes, okay!” Papyrus says brightly, putting one hand on the doorway and leaning very close to Edge. It might have been intimidating if not for that radiant smile, “Now can we go?”  
  
  
“Yes. No. One more thing. My brother...” Edge rubs at the back of his neck as he looks up at the ceiling with a frown, “He’s... he’s not a bad  _ person _ , but he’s going through a bad  _ time _ . So he’s a little...” He waves his hand vaguely, “Grumpy? Pessimistic? Mean? Not very fun to be around?”  
  
  
Edge just sighs and steps outside, hands clasped behind his back as he watches them file past him. Stretch was expecting the snow to be more icy and slippery, the air colder and more oppressive, and the sky dark and stormy. But it looks almost exactly like Undertale and Underswap. This snow feels like it’s  _ perfect  _ for making snow people and snowpoffs.  
  
  
“Don’t hold it against him. Please be patient with him,” Edge is almost pleading, which is super weird even though Stretch doesn’t know the guy well enough to judge. Had his hand in his rib cage trying to keep it from dusting, sure, but... “He’s  _ not  _ a bad person.”  
  
  
Before he can think too much on it, though, someone spots them from a distance. Someone who comes bounding over  _ really quickly. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The anime Stretch is referencing is Kill la Kill!
> 
> I'm really not sure how Stretch managed to make himself the protagonist on a SpicyMaple oneshot that's grown legs, but we'll see where this goes, I guess! Into Underfell proper now!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3


End file.
